I won't type the exact words I yelled at the TV--at her-- because I don't like to use that language. Basically, I called her a liar. I could not and still cannot even think that there might be a woman who sends her husband (or, to be fair, a spouse who sends his or her spouse) off on a deployment without imagining the worst.
Ryan and I were talking about it one day, and he said I'd probably be better off if he died than he would be if I died. It isn't that I love him less, but I feel that I have to be mentally prepared.
I feel this way even more with Adlee. I am so stinkin' afraid of SIDS that I have to imagine the worst. Almost every night, after listening for her breathing so I can sleep, I imagine what it would be if she stopped breathing in the night. How could I survive if ...and I wasn't somewhat mentally prepared? I know I can't be mentally prepared, but it's better to think through it now rather than when I am overcome with real grief.
Does anyone else think this way? You have to, right?
Don't get the wrong impression. I don't dwell on it. I don't "live in" the fear. In fact, I get all spiritual about it and remember that both Ryan and Adlee belong to God and that they would be waiting in heaven for me. I pray for God to help me give control of their lives over to Him which I know is ridiculous because, in reality, I have no control. Even though it's ridiculous, I still need to pray it. I think about it and move on.
Please don't think I'm overcome with worry. I know my worry wouldn't change anything, so I don't worry. I prepare. I don't allow my fear to paralyze me. I am facing my fear when I imagine the worst.
I'm sorry this was so dark, and I hope you don't think I'm mentally ill.
Jordon :)
You are not alone.
ReplyDeleteI've actually never talked to anyone about this, so I'm glad you brought the topic to light.
For months after bringing Lincoln home I would have...dreams, though I'm not sure I was sleeping (does that make sense?), while I was laying in bed at night. For the first month we were home (so throughout his second month of life) he was a very noisy sleeper. As annoying as this could be it gave me peace of mind. Hearing all of his groans assured me he was still alive and healthy. Later, though, he started to become a very quiet sleeper. This worried me. I would lay there and imagine walking into his room in the morning to see his lifeless body (morbid, I know - but you brought it up!). I would feel this guilt that I hadn't checked on him throughout the night, that he laid there until morning.
I can't go on because I'm getting emotional, but know that you are not alone. You are very strong to bring this up and pray for it. Each month that passes, SIDS becomes less of a threat (or so I tell myself), so taht is reassuring as the days tick by.
♥
Thank you for commenting. It makes me feel better to read your perspective.
ReplyDeleteYou brought up an interesting point. I would feel some guilt for not just knowing something happened to Ryan. I would feel SO GUILTY if something were to happen to Adlee and I didn't check on her right away.
You're not the only one who thinks that way. My father died when I was eleven in a horrible accident and I can safely say that when he left that day, I honestly believed he would come back and then he didn't. When I married Nate, I mentally prepared myself for the day when I would bury him because I couldn't afford to fall apart like my mom did when my father passed. Every time one of us walks out the door, we say 'I love you' because what if that's the last time we see each other?
ReplyDeleteWhen 2.0 was born, I did the exact same thing you're doing now. I was convinced that I was going have a stillbirth because I'd had two miscarriages at that point. Then he was born in perfect health and I waited for SIDS. I'd check on him constantly because I felt just like you do. What if I wasn't fast enough? How would I live with myself?
If it makes you feel better, that feeling doesn't go away. I pay for life insurance for 2.0 every single month because I don't want him to die and not have enough money to bury him. What if he gets into a car at sixteen and doesn't come home? Yes it's a good investment because he can borrow against it for college later, which is what I tell myself when I make that payment. Moms feel that fear a little more than dads do probably because we carried them inside our bodies for nine months and the loss would be more than we could bear.
I know 2.0 didn't grow in my body, and I'm 'just his dad,' but I can't imagine the pain if my beloved son were to die. I have at many times woke from a dead sleep thinking (no, knowing) that something was wrong with Nathan as he lay in the next room silently. I would fly out of my room into his, to stop inches above him, listening for signs of life. *A breath! Another!*
ReplyDeleteHe was fine each time of course, thank God! Just bad dreams, I suppose... horribly bad dreams. I never remembered dreaming, just waking with the supposed knowledge of his imminent danger. Each time I would cry a bit (a little over the fear of it, a little for the relief that he's ok), pray over him, thank God for him, kiss his forehead or cheek and go back to bed to try and go back to sleep.
This hasn't happened to me within the last couple of months, mainly due to the fact that he has a big-boy bed and inevitably comes to lay down in our bed around 3-4 in the morning... every morning. It comforts me when he does as I know that he is safe.
Thinking of having my Gift of God being taken away from me is hard. I know I wouldn't be ok for a long time. This is something that I don't know if I could emotionally prepare for without separating my heart from him in some way... without becoming detached from him in some crucial way... I know I need to be stronger so I can prepare for the worst. I try to plan and prepare as best I can for almost everything else in life...
Nate,
ReplyDeleteAn excellent point. You brought up another side of this that I hadn't addressed. I don't think I detach myself, but it is extremely important that I do not! It is extremely important that I love with everything I have despite the fear of loss!
It reminds me of the song, "All of Me" by Matt Hammitt.